Mind Games
by Forever A Fighter
Summary: A killer that can't be caught, a boy who can't be figured out and a recently ended marriage has Hotch at the end of his rope. Can the BAUs newest member be the key to it all as the team races to find a killer with PK? AU rating may change, not sure yet.
1. Chapter 1

Unit chief Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner walked into the director's office and looked at the young man sitting across from the dumpy blond woman known as Erin Strauss. He was thin and had light brown hair that had been slicked back against his skull and tucked behind his ears sharply. He kooked like he was in his early twenties, but dressed like he was in his late sixties with brown chords and a red cardigan over a white dress shirt and blue tie. The horn rimmed glasses he wore all but dominated his face and the slight glare almost fully obscured the sweet brown of his eyes. His hands fidgeted nervously around the strap of his leather satchel and his tongue darted out to wet his lips frequently.

"Agent Hotchner," Strauss said, "This is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm assigning him to your team."

"With all due respect ma'am," Hotch said, "I haven't heard anything about this, nor have I approved anything. We're about to leave on a case."

"That case is precisely why I want Doctor Reid to go with you." Strauss replied evenly, "He has an insight that will be invaluable. He was hand picked by agent Gideon. He's going with you, agent Hotchner, and that is my final word."

Doctor Reid had followed Hotch as he was ordered and soon found himself on the jet with the rest of the team. A dark haired woman, a blond, a dark haired man who was graying, the man he knew to be agent Gideon and a black man that reminded Reid way too much of the guys who beat up on him in high school. They all looked at him like he was from another planet and Reid was reminded once again that he did indeed deserve that look sometimes when the pages of the file Gideon was reading started to rustle on their own. Reid quickly got control and Gideon, the only one who knew what exactly Reid could do, smiled gently at him.

"Everyone," Hotch said, "The director has just informed me that we have a new member of the team. Doctor Spencer Reid will be accompanying us on this case as a bit of a test run, if you will. He was hand-picked by Gideon to join the BAU. Doctor Reid, you already know agent Gideon, but his is the rest of the team: Elle," the dark-haired woman, "JJ," the blond, "David Rossi," the bearded one, "and Derek Morgan," the chocolate skinned man. "Everyone, this is Doctor Reid."

"The skinny kid?" Morgan asked, raising his eye brows. "I used to steal lunch money from kids like him."

"Jail bait," Elle said.

"Exactly how old are you, Doctor?" Rossi asked.

"Twenty five years, seven months, three weeks, two days, nine hours and thirty seven minutes." Reid asked without thinking.

"Okay, let's get to work." Hotch said, effectively ending open season on the young doctor. Everyone took seats around table on the jet and began to flip through the case file. Out of the corner of her eye, Elle watched Reid's eyes dart over the pages at top speed, flipping every few seconds and only stopping to peer at crime scene photos.

"You do realize," Elle said snidely, "That you actually have to read the file, not just skim it, right?" Reid looked at her, slightly confused.

"I read twenty thousand words per minute." Reid said. "That and I already know what they put down about the schizophrenic victim."

"How?" Morgan asked from the other side of the table.

"My mother is schizophrenic, when I was a kid I ready everything I could get my hands on about it. Considering that I had the Caltech library and several other ones at my disposable, it was quite a bit." He frowned at the file in front of him. "They way he kills them, it's interesting. It says they died of asphyxiation, but there were no marks to prove that."

"They also had bruises on their lungs." Rossi added. "How does that even happen? There's no external bruising at all."

"At least we know the MO is the same every time," Morgan said, "What we don't have is a pattern between the victims. A schizophrenic woman, a drug dealer, a drug addict, a business man, a plumber and a kid. It goes through all races, genders, ages and body types. What could this guy possibly have found in common with all of them?"

"I'll have Garcia run back ground checks." JJ offered.

"Garcia?" Reid asked just as a plump blond woman appeared on the computer screen in the middle of the table.

"You called, angel fish?" she said. "Oh my! Who is this delectably desirable piece of library cutie who sits before me?" she asked, eying up Reid, who shifted nervously and looked down at his file again.

"Garcia," Hotch said, "This is Doctor Spencer Reid; Doctor, this is our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia."

"Spencer Reid?" Garcia repeated. "The Spencer Reid? The same one who graduated high school at twelve and went on to get three doctorates and two BA's before twenty one when he entered the FBI academy at the request of our very own Gideon?"

"Yes?" Reid said, a bit unsure of himself. He jumped when the woman squealed with delight.

"Oh my gosh, those pictures of you in the scenic journals do not do you justice, doctor!"

"Garcia,"Hotch snapped.

"Sorry sir."

"I need you to run back ground checks on all the victims, look for any connection. Oh, and stop scaring Doctor Reid, he's no good to us if he's petrified."

"Right away, sir!"

The screen went black and Reid noticed that Morgan's coffee was acting oddly, the dark liquid bouncing around in the Styrofoam cup despite the lack of turbulence. Reid willed it to calm down, gripping his knee until it hurt to help ground him. Once it had stopped sloshing, Gideon sent him an amused look from where he sat on Reid's right and dropped a piece of lined paper onto his lap. Reid, feeling much like a high schooler again as he opened the note, read it in a glance and shook his head at Gideon. Gideon shrugged.

"Suit yourself," he said.

"Gideon," Hotch said once everyone was off in their own little worlds, waiting for the plane to land in Nevada, "There's something you're not telling me about Doctor Reid."

"First off, just call him Reid," Gideon suggested. "Always introduce him as doctor though, it will help make people not see him so much as a kid. Just call him Reid, or even Spencer. Second thing is, be a bit patient with him. He's had a rough life and bringing him on to this case probably was one of the director's worst ideas yet, but we can deal with it. Spencer has a lot of history in Nevada, you may have to tread lightly around him if things get bad enough,"

"And why would that be?"

"You saw the reason why on a very small scale just a few hours ago. Now, if you'll excuse me." Gideon let and sat down on one of the bench seats, by Reid's feet. The kid had lay down with his head pillowed on his cardigan and lanky form curled up as much as it could be. Hotch sighed; Reid had the right idea. Best to get some sleep now.

(o)

The sun shown brightly on the suburbs of Les Vegas, Nevada and most of the team looked comfortable. Reid, however, looked right at home as he looked around the police station, nodding to himself. It was a modest station, filled with ringing phones and bustling interns carrying stacks of paper work from room to room, desk to desk. The chief was one Eric Brown and the BAU team was on their way to meet him.

"What's got you nodding, kid?" Morgan asked.

"Just that this place hasn't changed much from when I was a kid, that's all." Reid said.

"You came here as a kid?"

"Yeah, I lived about four streets over from here until I was twelve. My mom dragged me here a lot to try and file reports against the guys who used to get after me, but it never really worked. There was always too little evidence or the guy's dad worked here."

"That bites, man." Morgan said, clapping Reid's shoulder. Reid flinched away a bit and then skillfully maneuvered out from under the hand.

"Sorry, I'm just not a physical person." Reid explained.

The conversation was cut short when chief Brown strode up to Hotch, and then right passed him to Reid. The team watched as Reid tensed and Brown took a careful look at him before bursting out laughing.

"Well if it isn't Spencer Reid." Brown said. "What are you doing here, man? Thought you moved years ago. Damn, guess you're just not that easy to get rid of. Just sit tight for a moment, I have to deal with some FBI jackasses that the higher ups asked to come here to help solve some local murders. Like I need their help with this, I have it all under control, even got myself a suspect in custody."

"Chief Brown," Hotch said as he stepped to stand beside Reid, "I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. I see that you've already met Doctor Reid, but the rest of the team is behind you. Agents Morgan, Elle, Rossi and Gideon, along with our lesion, Jeniffer Jarue."

"Well I'll be damned, they actually sent you. Never mind. I'm Chief Brown. You all can set up in that room over there." Brown pointed over his shoulder to a conference room where a few cork boards and a white board had been set up, along with a table and a few chairs.

"Thank you." Hotch said.

Once they began setting up everything in the conference room, Hotch gave out assignments.

"Morgan, Elle, I want the two of you to go to crime scenes one, three and five. Gideon and Rossi take two four and six. Reid and I will stay beck here and interview chief Brown's suspect."

"Spencer," Gideon said right before he walked out he door, "Remember what you need to do if you have to do anything." Reid nodded and Hotch looked between the two of them, clearly expecting and explanation. "Don't worry, Hotch," Gideon continued, "It'll all make sense soon."

"Are you going to explain that?" Hotch asked once Gideon had gone.

"I'm under orders from the director not to say unless extenuating circumstances cone about." Reid said, not looking at Hotch.

"Like what?"

"Like if I'm about to get shot."

"Reid, you're on m team, if this is something that could be potential harmful to any of us or anyone else, I need to know. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I just don't think that you're going to be very ah, happy with what it is. It's quite unbelievable actually, I can barely believe it most days and it's me doing it."

"What? Are you going to tell me your a psychic or something?"

"I wish. That would have made life so much easier. I'm sorry, sir, but I'm under direct orders." Hotch sighed.

"I understand. By the way, it's just Hotch." He turned to the board and began pinning things up. Maps, pictures of crime scenes, victims, anything that might help them. Reid flipped though the files, trying to come up with a connection. He nearly screamed when Garcia popped onto the computer screen in front of him.

"Never would have taken you for a screamer," Garcia joked, "Always the quiet ones, isn't it?" Reid turned bright red when he caught on to the meaning and Hotch stepped in to save him.

"Garcia, what do you have?"

"Well, sir, you are so not going to believe this. All of these poor people were under investigation by the government and going to a hospital regularly to receive something. Looks like they were being monitored, but I don't know what for. It says 'Subject is showing more ability with each test. Can left and hold up to twenty seven pounds now and has progressed to attempting to stop and move living things. Seems promising.' That was from our little boy's file, Jeffery Tomas. What could it be?"

"I don't know. And the others?" Hotch asked, coming and leaning over Spencer so that Garcia could see his face in the screen.

"The same. All cryptic-sounding files that don't show what they were talking about. I think that's the connection."

"Good work. What's the name of the hospital?"

"Grand Star, about ten minutes from where you are now. I'm sending directions to your PDA now."

"Thanks." The screen blacked out and Hotch straighted. "I'll tell the team where we're headed. Go on out to the car for now." Reid nodded and did as he was told, gather files and putting them into his bag as he went.

When Hotch finished calling and letting the team know they were headed to the hospital, he headed outside. Reid was leaning against the car and looked to be in distress, arguing with someone over the phone.

"-No, don't tell her! You'll send her into an episode if she knows where I'm going... Yes, you are her doctor but I'm her son and no matter what you think if she finds out I'm going to a hospital with someone from the FBI, no matter if he's my boss or not, she is going to react and you are going to have to sedate her and then where will we be?... I'll see if I can, but I don't know. Give mom my love and tell her I'll try and be in touch...Thank you. Bye." Reid slipped his phone back into his packet and ran his hands through his hair.

"Is everything alright?" Hotch asked, startling the other man.

"Oh, uh, yes. Just my mom's doctor calling. We ready to go?"

The ride to the hospital was filled with silence. Reid had pulled out a leather bound book and was flipping the page every few seconds or so. Looking form the corner of his eye, Hotch could swear that the boy wasn't turning the pages at all, that they were turning themselves. But that was ridicules, pages didn't turn themselves. Hotch mentally shook himself and went back to watching the road, paying to mind to the young man next to him.

The inside of the hospital was surprisingly warm and lacked that disinfectant smell that always seemed to stick to the back of Hotch's throat. A nurse dressed in pink scrubs walked up to them and Hotch introduced himself and Reid, flashing his credentials. The nurse had nodded and went to get one of the higher-ups.

"Spencer Reid?" the doctor that came to them crooned. "I haven't seen you in ages!" He was a plump little man who reached up and seized Reid's cheeks, yanking him down so that they were level and planting a loud kiss on either side of his face. After some more crooning from the plump little man with the waxed mustache, Hotch cleared his throat.

"Doctor, we were hoping you could answer some questions about a few of your patients for us." Hotch told him.

"Sorry, doctor-patient privilege, By the way, I am Mario Pierre, head o this facility."

"Doctor Pierre, these patients are dead. They were found murdered."

"I am sorry, but-"

"Doctor," Reid cut in, digging through his pocket to find his wallet. He flipped it open to his drivers license, which showed a goofy-ish picture that didn't look half bad. "These patients were like this."

Hotch was confused. The patients were like what? But Mario seemed to get it anyway and paled drastically before dragging the two agents into his office. The door was then shut and locked, the blinds drawn and the phone unhooked from the jack.

"You were saying?" Reid took the files out of his satchel and lay them out on the table. "I was wondering where they had gone to., They've all missed their appointments."

"Doctor, what were these appointments for?" Hotch asked, not one to beat around the bush.

"Why, training, of course, for their PK. Surely Spencer would have been able to tell you that if he knew what hospital you were going to. He came here himself when he was child and knows what any Grad Star facility does." Mario turned to Reid. "He can be trusted, yes?"

"I believe so, however, in light of the fact that I never explained any of that to agent Hotchner, the results of this could be less than desirable. The director knew, but I was under strict orders from the highest ups not to say anything unless I was put into a life threatening situation. Which, judging by the look on his face, could be right about now."

Hotch stopped feeling quite so murderous and switched right to confused when the blinds started trembling of their own violation and the files started flipping pages despite no one touching them. Hotch reached for his gun, but Doctor Pierre grabbed his wrist, shaking his head and pointing to Reid, who had his eyes shut and his hands raised to his chest, palms down. He forced his hands down, like he was fighting against a physical barrier and things stopped moving. Reid was left gasping and fell into the nearest chair. Pierre rushed to get his a cup of coffee, dumping a seizable measure of sugar into it and stirring it quickly before shoving it into Reid's hands.

"You still don't have total control when he get nervous or frightened, do you?" Pierre asked, stroking Reid's hair back from his sweaty forehead affectionately. Reid shook his head and gulped at his coffee.

"No physical anchor, no control." Reid looked up at Hotch, who was still staring dumb-struck around the room. "_That_ is what you weren't supposed to find out, Hotch."

"What was 'that'?" Hotch asked, not sure if he actually wanted an answer.

"A small display of nervous energy form a very powerful young man." Pierre provided. "Spencer, like my patients, your victims, has the gift of PK, or psychokinesis. He can move things with only his mind and, if he works a bit at it, see into the mids of others, That, however, is very dangerous. One never knows what horrors lurk inside the human mind, waiting to jump out and snare you someone else's personal Hell forever."

"Please, don't think so loud." Reid requested quietly.

Well, thought Hotch, that's a new one.

"I think you should take Spencer back to wherever you're staying and make him lie down." Pierre suggested. "Call me if you need me. Also, be advised that leaving him alone for too long in this state can be very dangerous."

"Thank you, doctor." Hotch gathered the files, and then Reid, who didn't seemed to be able to stand up to easily. After a brief sort trough his bag, he came up with a A brown rod that, after a flick of the wrist, extended into a cane. Reid used it to help himself hobble out, occasionally clutching Hotch's offered arm.

"Sorry, my knee acts up sometimes, especially after a bender like that." Reid explained.

"What happened to it?"

"A few years ago some guy, also PK, didn't believe that I could stop a bullet o he drugged me and shot me in the knee. The version in my file is that I was abducted and shot by a random guy and the consequents were being addicted to Dilaudid for eight months and having a bad knee."

"All this covering up for something that most people don't even believe in." Hotch mussed to himself.

"The covering up is so that most people won't believe it. People with PK are the governments greatest asset right now. We volunteer, though, no one forces us to help. Before this case came up I was actually going to be a teacher, help people develop and control their PK."

"I'm sorry that you can't do that anymore."

"No, I'm thanking you for that, I'm not good with people."

It was getting close to full dark, so Hotch called the rest of the team and told them to meet himself and Reid back at the hotel for some rest. After a quick sorting of who was going to sleep where, Hotch sent Reid up to bed and followed quickly after. What he found when he got to the room made him room his eyes, but in a good natured way.

Reid was curled up in the middle of his bed, one arm under his head, anchoring a pillow in place, while his other hand rested on the open pages of a book, trying to keep his place. His glasses were lop=sided on his face and not doubt digging into the side of his head. He looked like a child, Hotch thought. Then he took a closer look around the room and saw that a faint glow was coming from near Reid's head, giving him a angelic look.

"Great. A floating light bulb."

**If you want more of "Mind Games" you must review. By the way, as this is AU, Hotch isn't with Haley at the moment. The explanation for that will come later, promise. Also rolling around in my head right now is Harry Potter, my favorite books, so be warned.**


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning brought more confusion to the team as Doctor Reid had told them to meet him at the station later that day. Hotch had let him go without question while the rest of the team sat down to have breakfast in the hotel's cutesy restaurant.

"Hotch," Morgan said, leaning closer to the man, "Do you really think that we can trust that kid?"

"What do you mean?" Hotch responded as he slipped his coffee.

"I mean, he's nice and all, but I had Garcia send me his file. The kid is a blue print for making an unsub, and a damn twisted one at that. His dad left him to raise himself with a schizophrenic mother when he was nine. That same year he entered high school and there are reports of him being in and out of the hospital because everyone else beat up on him so much. He graduated when he was twelve and then went to Caltech where his teachers say that he saw incredibly smart, but awkward around other students, teased, tormented and harassed."

"Morgan, Doctor Reid came for this case and we are under orders to work with him." Hotch said quietly. "I don't appreciate you doubting my judgment. If you want off this case to be away from him, tell me. Otherwise, do not disrespect my authority like that again."

(o)

Reid sat on the table in the center of the room, staring at the evidence boards in front of him. Six names, six people, six lives ended. The only connection so far was the hospital. With a care-free move of the pen in his hand, the name of the hospital was written on the dry-erase board on his right. Nothing was coming together so far and it wasn't like Reid could just go into the minds of the dead, that was a death-wish in itself. You didn't enter the mind of the end unless you wanted to die yourself.

Nothing was making sense so far. Very few people had access to the records of people with PK, only people who had it themselves, in fact. No way that they would start killing each other for no reason. There had to be something, somewhere, hiding in plain sight. But even with his brain firing on all cylinders, he had come up with nothing.

"What am I missing?" Reid asked aloud. He got up form his seat on the table and looked around at the crime scene photos, trying to find something, anything, that could help them. Staring intently at the boards, he had an idea. The only problem was that someone could walk in at any time and see him standing in the middle of a rapidly swirly vortex of glossy pictures.

The door opening alerted him that the rest of the team was there. Reid didn't need to use any power to feel their immediate thoughts and emotions, or to have their most recent memories flash before his eyes like a movie. He was just that powerful. Usually he would push that all into the back of his mind, but the sight of a memory caught his attention and made him grip the pen in his had tighter. Morgan had been looking over a file. Reid's personal file.

"Agent Morgan," Reid said before he could stop himself, "If you feel that you can't trust me, tell me. There is no need to go through my personal files, most of which were sealed, by the way. As much I appreciate the invasion of my privacy, I ask that if you have any further questions, ask me yourself. In other news, the only thing that connects our victims is the hospital. I can't fathom why they're being killed, this just doesn't happen to people like us."

"What do you mean people like us?" Prentice asked. Reid felt the need to smack himself in the face, but knew that he couldn't. Him and his big mouth.

"I'm going to close the door and draw the blinds." Reid said slowly.

The door shut quietly of it's own accord, the blinds falling one after the other shortly after. Elle and Morgan drew their guns, but Hotch was close enough to Rossi to prevent the man from drawing his side arm. For a moment, the word seemed to speed up as Morgan pulled the trigger. Everything was a blur, and then it all stopped.

Elle's right arm, the one holding the gun, was pinned to the table in the center of the room, the barrel of the gun facing away from everyone. Morgan was standing exactly how he had been, except that he seemed to be trying (and failing) to move. Reid was standing where he had been, but had turned to face everyone , one hand fisted in front of his face, fingers out.

"Reid, what are you doing?" Hotch demanded.

"Making sure that I don't get shot. Take their guns and I will let them move again. I can keep them like for a long time, but I'd rather not, it gets boring focusing on the same two people and if they stay like that for over about five hours then it is a possibility that they can go into a coma."

Hotch and Rossi quickly remove the other two agents weapons and Reid released them, lowering his hand and opening it to look at what was there. Sitting in the center of his palm was a bullet. He held it up and showed it to the others before putting it into his pocket.

"What the hell was that?" Morgan asked quietly.

"That was my psychokinesis, or PK for short." Reid said. He went through the brief explanation of it, as Pierre had with Hotch, and explained that all of the victims had PK. After making sure everyone understood what was going on (at least, what Reid understood was going on) Reid started taking down the pictures of the crime scenes, one by one.

"What are you doing?" Rossi asked.

"I noticed this before, but I didn't think anything of it." Reid said quickly. "The blood spatter on the walls almost looks staged. Each scene is a bit different, but in essence, they are all the same. I think that the unsub guessed that they would place someone with PK on this case." He laid the pictures out in a circle around himself, starching with the earliest to hos left and the latest to his right. "You know how when you draw figures on a note pad that all have just the slightest change in position and then you flip through them it looks like the object is moving? I think that that's what the unsub did, only he did it in blood. Now, I can keep these moving for a long time with little to no thought, but I need someone to act as an anchor."

"Like on a ship?" Elle asked.

"Kind of." Reid said. "There are few people with PK and we all need an anchor of sorts. Most people use objects, but ones who are really powerful, like me and my mother, need a person to anchor us. My mother used me, but then she accidentally slipped into her own mind and it drove her to madness. Officially, you know what happened, but that is the real story. One of you needs to literally hold me to reality. You have to be stable, intelligent, able to physically restrain me. Obviously Elle and Morgan can't do it, no offense, but it was child's play to restrain you."

"Okay, so use Rossi or Hotch." Morgan suggested.

"See,, now we run into problems." Reid said with a wince. "I need to see whose mind is most resistant to attack or else I could end up trapped in someones head permanently. I am going to try and get into both of your minds at once. Please don't fire me for this."

Rossi was hard to get into, but Reid quickly withdrew and mentally shook himself. Hotch was like ramming into a steel-reinforced concrete wall. Reid actually stumbled back a few steps.

"Hotch, definitely Hotch." Reid rubbed his forehead. "God, I think I actually hit something in there."

"If what you just did had anything to do with the pain blooming behind my eyes, then yes, you did hit something." Hotch said. "What do I need to do?"

Under Reid's direction, Hotch stepped into the circle of pictures and stood behind Reid. One hand on the boy's shoulder and the other between his shoulder blades, they were ready to start. The pictures floated up and started swirling around, creating a mini tornado around them. Hotch watched as they flashed by and tried to see what Reid was apparently seeing.

Hotch felt something similar to electricity coursing through him, but it felt so much better. For some strange reason, everything smelled like cinnamon and a library. He could feel Reid's skin burning up, even through the three or four layers over his torso. Suddenly, Reid collapsed and the pictures all fell.

Hotch laid Reid out on the floor and brushed the his away form his sweaty face.

"Reid, talk to me Reid." he ordered.

"Bobbi Green." Reid said. "We need to find Bobbi Green."

Morgan pulled out his phone and relayed the name to Garcia, then put the phone on speaker.

"Out little Bobbi Green's real name is Roberta and she is a fifteen year old girl living near you who had a bit of a record, though this time I actually understand it. She is one of seven kids, looks like her mom left when she was ten and dad has done some hard time for assault and attempted murder. It looks like there isn't a history of abuse anywhere in here, except maybe from mother to the only daughter if the gigantic scar across her face and the corresponding hospital visit are anything to go on.

"Bobbi has been arrested four times for, lo and behold, assault, however only one of the charges stuck because the others didn't have any evidence that she had even touched them. And, looking at the security footage of her father's garage, where she works full-time since she graduated high school last year, she didn't touch them, though they are being thrown around like rag dolls behind her back while she works. The one charge that suck, oh yeah, he went after a little boy I can see on screen and then she kicked his ass. Go Bobbi!"

"Garcia, where is she now?" Hotch asked, getting impatient as Reid sat on the floor, gathering his strength.

"About five blocks from you in the garage called _Green Castle._"

'Thanks Mama." Derek hung up. "I'll go with Elle and see this chick. Hotch, I think you and pretty Boy here need to go take a nap and get some sugar into him."

Hotch nodded and turned to Rossi and Gideon.

"Rossi, keep going through the evidence, Gideon, you, Reid and I need to chat." He looked down at the boy in his arms. "After his head stops spinning."

(o)

_Green's Castle_ turned out to be a small shop, but looked like it got a lot of business, if the number a expensive-looking cars in the lot said anything. Morgan and Elle looked for some type of office, but, finding none, entered the garage and spotted a desk maned by a teenage boy at the back.

"Hey man," Morgan said, pulling out his credentials, "I'm Agent Morgan and this is Agent Greenaway, we're with the FBI."

The boy used a hand to flip up his dark brown bangs, which hung well over his blue eyes and nodded.

"Sam Green. What can I get you?"

"We're looking for Roberta Green," Elle told him. "Is she in?"

"What do you want with Bobbi?" Sam asked warily. "She hasn't done anything since that guy tried to touch Danny Lee."

"Sam, are you one of Bobbi's brothers?" Elle asked.

"Yeah, I'm second oldest."

"Is your father in?" Morgan asked, changing the direction of the questioning.

"No, Pop's in court today."

"Court for what, exactly?" Elle asked.

"Mom's back and she wants custody. We all know she won't get it though, not after what she did to Bobbi and me."

"Sam, if you don't mind me asking, what did you mother do to you?" Morgan asked gently.

"Um, do you mind if we go someplace else to talk?" Sam asked. "Jordon," he motioned to a another boy working on a car, "He doesn't know a lot about what happened, he's only twelve. We can up upstairs to the house."

Morgan and Ells agreed.

"Yo, Jordon," Sam yelled. The other boy looked up. "I need to talk to these guys, gunna take them up to the house. Can you watch the counter until I get back?"

"Sure Sam. What's this about?"

"It's about Bobbi."

Jordon's face hardened and he nodded.

"Sam, family to family."

"Family to family." Sam repeated.

The agents looked at each other and then were lead to a back stair case. The 'house' was really an apartment over the garage, cozy, a little shabby, but nice enough. There were pictures hanging everywhere, one in particular caught Morgan's attention.

It was of a girl and a boy sitting on the hood of a car, the girl sideways across the boy's lap. She was pretty, with dark red hair that had been sheered short in the back but flopped over her face in the front. She had dark blue eyes, like everyone else on the wall, and was wearing a red tank top with oil stains and a pair of baggy jeans. A long scar cut across the side of her face from hair lined to jaw, a crescent moon of silvery tissue. The boy in the picture was tall and had curly black hair pulled away from his pale face. He wore a leather jacket and jeans and an odd scar was over his left eye. Morgan looked closer and saw that is was a cross that extended down from his brow to about the middle of his cheek and the horizontally just passed the corners of his eyes.

"So, Sam," Morgan heard Elle say from behind him, "What can you tell us?"

"Well, mom wasn't really very fond of me and Bobbi, but for different reasons. See, Bobbi's really pretty, and so nice, and I think mom was jealous. She would hit Bobbi, say mean things to her, try and get Bobbi to be mean too. It didn't work. Bobbi would always just look up at her and smile. It had always been like that. I remember once, and I pray that I will someday forget it, when Bobbi was seven, mom gave her a black eye and knocked out one of her baby teeth. Mom screamed that she hated Bobbi, never wanted to see her again. Bobbi looked up at her and she _smiled _and she said 'I love you, mommy' and then mom gave her that scar and started in on me.

"She couldn't break Bobbi by hurting her, but I was Bobbi's baby brother and the first time mom hit me, Bobbi tore that bitch apart. Mom would tie Bobbi up and make her watch mom hit me. Then I did something and it got worse. Mom tied me down, Bobbi too, and burned a cross in my forehead. Mom didn't know that the ropes were lose on Bobbi. Bobbi got up and beat her, probably almost killed her. Mom left that day. She came back a while later and dropped a seven-month-old Danny Lee in my arms before Bobbi threatened her.

"See, Bobbi's more than a sister to us in the family, she raised us. Jamie, the guy with the black hair in the picture over there," Sam pointed to the picture Morgan had been examining, "He helped to. He's like a big brother to me, helped me through a lot of what's going on. Dad's got cancer, doctor says he doesn't have much time left, and he's leaving the shop to Jamie and Bobbi, a wedding present, he said. They get married next month. I'm gunna be the best man."

"Where's Bobbi?" Elle asked.

(o)

Hotch sat across from the red-haired girl they had in a small interrogation room.

"Bobbi Green?"

**A/N: sorry this took so long!**


	3. Chapter 3

_Hotch sat across from the red-haired girl they had in a small interrogation room._

_"Bobbi Green?"_

"Only if you're Agent Hotchner."

Hotch couldn't help but blink. No one had told this girl, who had apparently been sitting the the room since the day before, when Hotch had to cancel the interview, hadn't been told anything other than she was under arrest for murder.

"I see that you know about us," Bobbi said, throwing her head back to flip her bangs out of her face as her hands were cuffed to the table. "Me, my brothers, my parents. You didn't count on this, did you, agent? That I would know so much about you the moment you walked into the room, thinking about your son, your ex-wife, this case, me, how powerful the new guy on your team is. Well guess what? I'm stronger."

"How can you tell all that just by looking at me?" Hotch asked. "My agent made it perfectly clear that reading minds can be dangerous."

Bobbi smiled and laughed.

"I don't have PK, agent, and you're wondering what I can do, the extent of my power. I know that you're not the reason I'm locked in here, I know you didn't come in with it on your mind that I'm a murderer. Take I guess why I know everything you're thinking."

"You're a psychic." Hotch answered immediately. "You powerful too, I can't feel you probing my mind, but I could when my agent did."

"Then you'll know that I'm right when I say that you have another body now, that you should send someone to 3794 Weston Street. You shouldn't go agent Hotchner, you don't need to see that." Bobbi's voice had softened, and she leaned forward, shaking her head. "You don't need that on you're mind, not now that you have son so young."

Hotch looked at her warily, but relayed the address to the locals, telling them to grab Rossi and Gideon and head out. Bobbi's eyes had become cloudy and her shoulder's slumped. She shook herself and suddenly looked like she had before, hard-eyed and a bit angry.

The door to the interrogation opened and Morgan came in.

"Hotch, there's a whole slew of guys standing out here asking for Bobbi. One of these guys makes _you_ look small. Says Bobbi is his fiancée and he needs to talk to her because her brother Sam called him and said that the FBI came to talk to their brother Jordon."

"What?" Hotch asked.

"I got nine guys out here all asking for Bobbi and they have been for the past hour." Morgan condensed. "And they just found another body, so cut her lose."

(o)

"Meet the family," Bobbi said to Hotch, motioning to the ten assembled males, ranging from seven to forty three. "Starting at the bottom and working my way up there are: Danny Lee, Matt, Cole, Britt, Sam and Jordon are my brothers. Kenny in Jordon's boyfriend, Jamie is my fiancé and this is my dad."

Mr. Green, a large man with thinning red hair looked down at Hotch and smiled.

"Thank you for keeping track of my little girl, but she's missed her doctor's appointment now. Maybe that's a good thing, though, she could have ended up with her mother as a nurse."

"Where is your daughter's appointment, if you don't mind my asking?" Hotch said.

"Grand Star hospital." Mr. Green answered.

"Thank you." Hotch walked away, pulling out his phone and dialing Garcia. "I need everything you have on Bobbi Green's mother, and every other person who works at that hospital, the Grand Star."

(o)

Bobbi Green's mother, Marsha, was a haughty looking woman with dark red hair shot through with stern silver. There were crows feet at the corners of her eyes and her skin was falsely taught everywhere else. Morgan didn't like the look of her, not one bit.

"Mrs. Green," Morgan said, "I've met your daughter, Bobbi. I have to say, the resemblance is striking, other than the scar, of course. The scar is a pity, she's such a pretty girl, like her mother, but I think the scar gives her character. It suits her, don't you think? Probably what caught Jamie's eye, seeing as he has a scar as well."

"Is there a point to this, agent Morgan?" Marsha snapped. "Because if not, then I have to get back to work."

"Speaking of work, you examined a lot of my victims before they died." Morgan said. "They were remarkable people, in my opinion. I gotta friend like them, real nice kid, real smart. I'm guessing you'd be jealous of him, you can barely move a paper clips without breaking a sweat, am I right? You'd be jealous of him just like you were jealous of your patients and your daughter."

"I was never-"

"Mrs. Green, please, I've talked to all your kids and you seem to have something against your two oldest, Jordon and Bobbi."

"You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"I think I do. Bobbi is sixteen and engaged to a great-looking guy who may look like a thug, but is really just a big, sweet teddy bear. He brings her flowers to the shop, writes cute little poems to her on the white board in the back room, helps her raise _your _children."

"Agent-"

"and then there's Jordon. He's fifteen, a boy and has a great guy on his arm. They compliment each other perfectly, are so in love that you can _feel _it when you see them next to each other. Your husband was a pilot, you expected a life of fortune and fames, so you married him to try and have some sort of fairy-tale life, but you never got it. Your kids have it though. They have everything that you never did, especially Bobbi. She's got the man, the happiness, even kids since she raised her siblings."

"Shut up!" Marsh screamed. "Yes, alright, I _hate_ that little bitch! She has everything I never could! I gave her that scar and they still say she's beautiful, she graduated early because she's just oh-so smart. She was able to raise my children better than I ever could, defend them even if that meant she got arrested. But I swear that I've never killed anyone, if I had, it would have been _her_."

Morgan looked up when Elle poked her head into the room.

"We have another body."

**A/N: sorry if it's a little short, but I thought you guys deserved something. :)**


End file.
